Life After Link
by Curfew
Summary: What if Zelda had never ended up with Link? What if his adventuring had gotten in the way of a real relationship? What happened after Link?


My black clothing stood out against the pastel hues of blue, reds and the bright yellows of the market people's wear. It was rather loud – noise was not something I was use to. But, my father and I were in a foreign place, and I expected nothing to be the same as my home land, as far away from Hyrule as it was. We had taken many ships, caravans across plains, and horses across mountains to be here, just for my sake. My father was hugging me now, probable the last hug I would ever receive from him, and the last time I would see him. He had sold my apprenticeship off to a local ranch, so that I may find a place in the world as he had. But instead of making clocks like all of my younger brothers would when they came of age, with my father, I was off in some distant place, soon to be raising horses and milking cows.

"Persimmon," he looked down on me, not much though, I was almost as tall as he was. My mother had named me after her favorite fruit, which suited me, because I was her favorite child, being the only girl out of eight. "You know we are doing this for your own good, this country is far richer then Tamilu will ever be. The rulers are fair and wise, and much more is watching over all the citizens then just soldiers and swords." His giant smile made me feel warm with thoughts of my home, but at the same time, already homesick. I tilted my head down; I did not miss home as much as I missed my mother, whom was my best-friend. I avoided other girls my age, and tried to hang out with my brothers without success. Who wanted to hang out with an older girl anyways?

"Excuse me, Mr. Ramsey?" a tall, middle-aged woman, appeared in front of us, eyeing my father with curiosity.

"It is I, and you must be the ranch owner …" the name drew a blank in both of our minds; I couldn't remember it being female.

"Malon," her slightly wrinkled face grew into a large smile. "And you are Persimmon, what a beautiful name." She was addressing my father, not me.

"She is 15 years-old, and you will find that she is a very able girl. She runs faster then any of the boys back in the city, and she has a will out of this world. But, not to worry, she is very well-tempered, and won't cause any harm," my father was pathetic, trying to impress this lady and sell me off. He was almost bowing to her, she just smiled.

"Of course, I didn't expect anything else from an old friend's family. How is Ingo these days?" Malon asked my father.

She was referring to my father's older brother, who had moved back to Tamilu two years ago, to retire. He had worked with Malon when she was much younger, and I remember the tails he use to tell us about Hyrule; the heroes, the maidens and the monsters. I had enjoyed them, and I still did, hearing them from my father every so often, most of them he had memorized also.

"Well, his health could be better," my father smiled, his eyes creasing with sincerity.

"Ingo is a good man, even after what happened 20 years ago, he is still as kind as he was before," for a moment she looked disappointed, but her smile blotted out the emotion in her aging eyes. I had known something bad had happened to Ingo a while ago, before he came home and still worked on the ranch, but my father never had the decency to tell me, something deep and dark that was the only smudge on our family's record.

"Well, we must be going," she put her hand on my shoulder as if she had known me my whole life. I was an inch taller then her, but not as thin though. She was flat all around, where I had grown up early, and was hardly flat anywhere. My hips had thickened out, and so had my chest. I could even fill out some of my mother's dressed, but this only brought sadness; I didn't want to grow up to be an adult, especially one like my father.

For all the generations back as my grandfather could remember, we have been clock makers. Giant wooden ones, to small metal ones that people place on their tables. Sometimes we got orders from the King and Queen of Hyrule themselves, but most of the times we just made repairs on people's grandfather clocks, or the giant wooden ones that were spread through-out the greater towns in our country. It was rather boring, and my father got pushed around a lot, as did my mother who helped with the carving. Maybe that was why I didn't object to being sent far away; away from the life my parents had already known would be planned for me. I saw my uncle, Ingo, as a better person who having the stamina to face my grandfather, and leave Tamilu without his consent, or money. He had single-handily made it across the route that my father and I had just endured, with barely more then pocket-change. I wanted to be like Ingo, free, independent, rather then my father, who wishes were to please others, and watch as they insulted his back and work. And the worse part was that he let them.

My father just nodded, hugged me briefly, and set off to the castle. He never would of some this far just to drop me off; he had a special delivery for the Queen, something important no less. He hadn't even showed it, or mention what it was, to me.

Malon motioned for me to come into the other direction. We headed out of the market square, down the cobblestone street that lead to the draw bridge, and across it.

My father and I had come a similar way, just through the west gate and not the south. We could see the ranch into the distance, its looming shape just a shadow in dusk's eye. A horse was waiting nearby, its dark mane and light complexion stunning me- it was beautiful. Malon got on, and patted the small space behind the saddle.

"Just hold on," she said, and we were off. The castle of Hyrule, and its market, getting smaller and smaller, until it was the shadow, and the ranch was a mere two yards away. Malon smiled fondly as we got off, helping me down. Clumsily, my foot got caught in the leather strap that was holding a large, clay bottle to the horse, and I fell face first into the dirt at the entrance. Malon was a few feet away, offered her hand as I got up, brushed myself, and looked up to examine the sign.

For some reason, I had never known its name before, Ingo had never mentioned it, neither had my father. "Lon Lon Ranch" the large wooden sign read, a festive banner and a thick rope held it between the two stone walls the surrounded the area. The entrance was two buildings, an old looking wooden stable, and a plaster, white house. Malon smiled at me, as she led the horse around to the back end of the stable, which opened up into the main field, and the fenced in area where the horses roamed and ate. There was no one around except for a few horses, young and old, and a cow tied to a nearby tree, chewing away carelessly. Most of the field was dirt, and the grass that still remained was dry from the summer weather.

We lead the horse into the gate that lead into the fenced area, and then she pointed out the different features.

"There's the house, most plainly," her finger was in the general direction of the house, I could now see it was very large, and two stories high. "You're lucky we just got it remodeled, so now you and the boys can share a room."

I frown. I had shared a bedroom with five of my brothers my whole life, even as I grew older. My father didn't find anything wrong with it, and it seemed Malon didn't either.

"Boys?" I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral.

"My sons, Richie and Talon. Ones to young to bother and the other one is about your age," she smiled. "They get up early, and go to bed late, so there is plenty of time for you to get changed. My father and I sleep in the other room that is where we dine as well. The lower floor it more of a makeshift chicken coop, as we haven't had a proper one built yet. Your duties for the week will be cleaning that, bringing in fresh hay, and checking for eggs, though I doubt you will find any."

Next was the barn, we entered through a door that was across the way from the entrance to the house.

"Later, after you get acquainted with the farm, you can work in here and tend the cows and the horses. Your uncle was very good with the horses, and was the best rider on the farm, besides myself. Make sure there aren't too many horses out in the field, and to tie them up here at night. Same with the cows, usually we just put them out one at a time, or put them in the milk house at the far end of the ranch. The boys usually take care of the milking and such, so you won't have to worry about that." She stroked her hand through her messy hair, trying to part it with her fingers. She pointed at a nearby mare, a deep orange with a light colored mane and tail.

"That one there is especially important; we are selling him in two weeks time to the Royal family. It's a great honor really, and Styn is such a wonderful horse, with good parents. A bit wild, but the best horses are," she laughed softly. "Two weeks the Royal family will be making their visits, they do so twice a year, and will be purchasing Styn, for I think, the prince. The messenger even announced that the queen might even be here! I haven't seen her in so long." Malon's face creased with happiness, and gratuity.

The field was the last on the list, as Malon felt it unnecessary to show me the milk house, as it wasn't part of my chores.

"And this is the corral, where most of the horses exercise and feed. There is the trough for both the water and food. Occasionally we put out fences for practice, but that's the rare occasions when we aren't working. You are free to ride any horse when you have free time, but again, that's not often."

"Except, I don't know how to ride," I added softly, I didn't want to upset her.

"Oh my, that's a problem, especially since you are going to work here and all. Well Talon or I can give you lessons when we have time. We don't have many saddles, so you might have to ride bareback on occasion."

We walked back to the house; it was almost completely dark now, except the lights streaming in from the windows. As the door opened and we stepped in, we were met by the noise of what seemed like a thousand chickens. They were stepping over everything, droppings and hay was everywhere. We did our best to step around them, and went up the stairs, which opened onto two doors.

"The left is yours and the boy's and the right is me and my father's. Join us for a bite to eat once you settle in a bit."

The bedroom was lofty, and had a semi-high ceiling. It was paneled all around, a dark looking walnut or something. The floor was the same, and the only deviance was a dull knot rug in the middle of the floor, and a table with a lone flower that almost looked dead.

A boy was sitting on the top bunk of the bed, swinging his feet around. I guessed this to be one of the brothers. His hair was not the color of his mother's; it was brown, with flashes of blonde. He looked taller then I, and older, by maybe a year, I guessed. His attention was on me.

"I'm Persimmon," I wandered over to his bed, and extended my hand, not knowing what else to do.

"Talon," he said, his eye brows raised. Though, he didn't take my hand, and just jumped down and looked at me, head to toe, and back up again. "Dinner will be ready soon, at least I hope," he added shortly, and exited through the door.

I sighed, and looked around for my bed, which was at the opposite side of the room. It was bigger then the bunk beds, but the straw mattress looked less filled, and uncomfortable.

I hugged my knees, and lay myself down on the covers, my eyes trying hard not to cry.

Dinner was quiet, and uninteresting, but I met the rest of the family. Richie was 7 years-old and very hyper. He shared his mother's hair, ears, and eyes. They were twins, except in gender and age. Malon's father, Talon, whom her son had been named after, was wide, with peaceful eyes and grey hair. He was large, though not tall and looked like he was going to fall asleep through-out the whole meal, but acknowledged my presence warmly.

"So," I said, chewing a bit of tough meat. "What's the Royal Family like?" I had no clue as to who any of the members were. They were mentioned in the stories Ingo often told, but no names seemed to pop out of my mind. Except one, _Zelda._

Malon starred, like I was crazy, but soon got back to her food, looking down.

"Well Prince Ronald, and the Queen and King, Zelda and Rupert II. They are all very wise with their rule, and generous. We haven't been at war… since… since a long time." She was chewing very hard, still looking down; something else was hidden behind her tone.

"Don't forget Princess Alanea, though I guess you wouldn't consider her a real part of it. She is illegitimate," Talon said, moving his food around on his plate with his fork. He was looking absently at the wall behind me, his eyes never meeting my face.

"She's a nun," Richie added, his smile taking over his face kindly, he was almost too short to sit in the chair.

"Shh… that's disrespectful," Malon pointed a finger at him, and looked at me to explain. "She had all the rights of a real citizen, but she works at the temple, all day. She lives in the castle still, although she is nearly 21, and spends here days pleasing the sages and cleaning the temple. Rupert is a very kind man, and accepted her into the family as if she were his own daughter."

I nodded, not understanding as much as I would like. _The sages from the stories?_ I asked myself, but I did not dare say anything in front of any of them.

"Does that make Prince Ronald older then her?" I hated the silence that came when the questions ceased.

"Oh no, Alanea was born before the Queen was married. There are rumors about the father, but no one speaks them. They say she only married Rupert because her love never returned to Hyrule. Though who he is, and where he went is a mystery to everyone but the Queen and her few attendants. I doubt even her husband knows." Malon looked sad for a moment, but a twinkle of thought interrupted her frown, and a small smile creased her lips. She mouthed a silent name, something I could not hear.

"Excuse me?"

She looked startled, as if she thought I had actually heard her say it, her green eyes were wide with fear. "Nothing," she looked down and continued to eat her meal in silence. Everyone else followed her example.

The meal ended in the clatter of plates, and the snores of Malon's father.


End file.
